


On All the Ashes in My Wake

by Theboys



Series: Dear God, It's Me, Dean [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Dean, Bottom Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Demon Deals, Hostage Situations, M/M, Omega Dean, Possessive Sam, Protective Sam, Rude Dean, Scared Dean, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:17:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4516362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theboys/pseuds/Theboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam won’t be human, anymore. Sam won’t be much of anything, after that.</p>
<p>In which Dean reveals some bittersweet news, and becomes privy to some disheartening information.</p>
<p>Dean POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On All the Ashes in My Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Arsonist's Lullaby, by Hozier.

It’s as dark as sin.

Dean figures he’ll know, personally, how dark that is, when he goes on his extended vacation downstairs, but right now he’s terrified.

There’s not another word for this feeling.

He wraps his arms completely around his stomach, clucks meaninglessly down to his pups, hands trembling with dehydration and general exhaustion.

He’d kill for just one hit of that IV, and he laughs tremulously, knowing how pathetic that probably makes him sound.

The pups are alright, for now, thin thread of fatigue tangled in their scents, and they seem to be sleeping, something Dean wishes he had the luxury of doing. Seems Dolly wrapped him in a blanket of some sort, because he can feel it on his shoulders.

Smells like home, but it’s too dark to see what the blanket looks like. He’s wearing Sam’s sweater, and he hurriedly presses the cloth to his nose, inhaling so deeply it starts off a cough, and he doubles over, body trembling with the attempt to remain upright.

His eyes fill with tears at the lack of air and they’re tumbling over his cheeks when the cough finally subsides, and he can breathe again. Dean swipes at his eyes, reaches out blindly to feel for the bed that he first woke up on. It’s hard as hell, one of the worst things he’s ever slept on, and he would probably choose the floor before he opted for this piece of shit.

S’like a giant brick with a sheet on top, and Dean cracks his spine painfully, sighing at the added pressure his kids are putting on his lower back.

“You had to kidnap a pregnant omega, right? Dean snorts loudly.  “Motherfuckers, I have zero bladder control.”

Dean doesn’t know who he’s screaming at, but his head is fucking killing him, and his entire body has started to tremble, and this always happens right before he passes out. He really, really cannot afford to be the weak husk of a hunter he is right now.

Time was when he would have already figured a way out of this mess, murdered everything in his path, Sammy as back up. Where it stands now, he can’t lift a finger.

The lights flicker on abruptly, and Dean blinks once and then swivels his head, taking in as many details as he can, before his body gives out on him. The room is about 10 x 3, and it seems even more claustrophobic than it was in the dark. Dean realizes it’s like he’s been sealed in a small coffin.

He presses his fist to his mouth and smothers his involuntary scream.

The pups are fully awake, and Dean can’t hide the stench of fear, is cradled in it, and they can scent that they’re not in their regular surroundings. Sam had teased him about nesting, tugged him close at night and pressed his lips into Dean’s scalp.

_Don’t even leave home anymore, Dean. You smell safe. They smell safe._

Dean had pushed him away, grumbling about personal space, and

_it’s a fucking house Sam, it’s supposed to feel safe_

But Sammy had laughed, pulled him back and shrugged.

Dean blinks slowly, grips his swell and looks around once more. Bed against the largest wall, small sink in the corner. No bathroom, then. They either want to humiliate him, forcing him to urinate against his will, or they’re not inclined to keep him in here long.

He’s not sure which he would prefer. He wants a chance to gather his bearings, figure out a plan of action, one that doesn’t include fighting, because apparently, that’s been temporarily stricken from his resume. Dean stretches surreptitiously, feigning back pain in case anyone is watching.

He didn’t see any cameras, but that’s just the mark of a good hiding place. He spreads his legs, resting his stomach in the small space between them, and clasps his hands together. He needs to get himself fucking together.

Dean has a momentary flash of panic. What if they kill him, he’s outnumbered and pregnant, it’s not a far off possibility any longer, and what if he never gets the chance to tell Sam what he’s discovered? He was going to get tested at the clinic, but everyone knows it’s just a formality at this stage. Dean’s aware of the sex of his pups now, can scent it clear as day, and Sam won’t be able to smell it until later. Maybe never.

Dean’s known for about a week, been looking for the right opportunity to tell him. Doesn’t want it to be a big deal, knows Sam will make it one anyway, regardless of any precautions Dean might ensure. He taps his foot restlessly.

Twins.

Maple is the more dominant, Dean already knows he’ll be a rowdy boy, all fight and might, and Dean doesn’t know how to begin to handle the kind of unbridled energy the kid will throw at them. Lilac is Maple’s brother, content to observe Maple’s antics, but when he’s displeased, even Maple’s scent curbs itself in his favor. Dean kind of likes that.

He’s just gotten to know them, they’re just becoming sentient beings, and now these fucks are here to take all of that away from him. From them.

Dean grimaces when he thinks of how Sam will take the news.

Sam won’t be human, anymore. Sam won’t be much of anything, after that.

_burn the whole world down_

There have been plenty of threats to his life before, and he’s escaped those unscathed. What’s there to stop him now. Dean sits up, spine cracking painfully.

He takes in a deep breath, right as the door opens, and Dolly, would you look at that, slinks right in. He’s got a black eye from where Dean deliberately elbowed him when he woke, and he looks none too pleased to still be on Dean duty.

Dean smiles, nothing but jagged knives. “Hey there Dolly, how’s Tennessee treating you? Any albums coming out anytime soon?” The Alpha’s lip curls and he takes a menacing step toward Dean. Dean leans right into it, eyes wide and sardonic.

“Got a problem, big boy? You gonna fight a pregnant omega? Show what a big wolf you are?” A shock of blonde hair falls into Dolly’s face and his incisors are flashing, gleaming razors.

Dean’s standing then, crowds the bigger man into the wall behind him, fury-scent of metal and blood engulfing the area. “Show me if you’re a bigger bitch than I thought you were.”

“Man, fuck you, you piece of omega shit--”

“That’s enough.” The order is given carelessly, thread of steel caressing the words, and Dean’s not surprised when the young Alpha retreats, not strong enough to withstand Alpha-command from an older Alpha.

The man is of average height, maybe 5’10, and his hair is buzzed close to his head, light brown. His eyes are big, bigger than they have a right to be, when his other features are so small, and they’re grey and blue, bruised wound.

“Dean.” His name is said, as an afterthought, and he motions graciously for Dean to pass through the open door. Dean doesn’t second guess it, this Alpha smells like burning wood, but he’s also the home to a demon, which is the layer of mud on top of the bark.

Dean’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he’s aware that he looks rather unthreatening, with his blanket tangled around his shoulders, dark circles hovering underneath tired eyes. He sags visibly, before he feels a kick from Lilac, sharp in his gut.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters, slight smirk at how true the sentiment is in this instance.

Well, if he’s weak, he’s weak. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use it to his advantage.

Eyes glances up at him, neck at a slight tilt to honor Dean’s height. Dean grins down, invitation, squints in amusement.

“Gonna tell me what I’m doing here? Or is there some kind of test I’m supposed to be passing.”

The demon smiles, like a watery grave, disappearing act, and motions that Dean fall in step beside him. Dean doesn’t hide his gawking, figures he needs to look around anyway, and if they’d cared that he saw, they would have blindfolded him.

It’s a prison.

It’s an honest to god prison, he’s passing cell blocks and white concrete walls, can see the bolted down tables of the cafeteria. This is fucking surreal. He’s been kept hostage in worse places, he supposes, with more menacing creatures, so he’ll just count himself lucky.

“You mean to say you don’t have any idea what you’re doing here?” Dean fidgets in place, wraps one hand securely in the loose arm of Sam’s sweater. “I figure it has something to do with my fucking Alpha--” he takes a wide peek at the ten or so demons milling about on the ground floor, he and Eyes are up top, next to the railing that overlooks what Dean can only assume is the common area.

“and Hell.” Dean smirks. “Did I win? You gonna take away points if I got it wrong?” Eyes blinks up at him, slow grace, and turns to face the floor again.

“You’re supposed to die. You need to die, actually, and the spawn growing inside you. He won’t fight anymore, considering, you’re the one he’s fighting for.”

Eyes gestures towards Dean’s distended stomach with disdain. “Well, you and those, I guess. It’s easier to kill you than him. He’s Alpha, and you’re pregnant.” Dean’s insides twist uncomfortably, and he’s skin tight with rage, body dry and taut.

“Plans change. You can kill me,” he lifts a shoulder then and shrugs, feigning a nonchalance he isn’t even close to feeling.

“But you’re dead wrong if you think that’ll get rid of him.”

Dean’s voice hardens, he doesn’t need to bluff his way through this. “He’ll scent you out. Every last one of you. Then he’ll burn you alive.”

Dean rests warm hands on the cool railing before him, heart hammering in his chest. He’s so goddamned weary right now. “Sammy’ll make you wish he’d just killed you.”

“And whoever is in charge of you”, Dean has some idea, but he’s not about to play his ace, “he’ll murder them too.” Dean says. “At that point, your biggest problem will be Sam Winchester. You won’t stop anything.”

Dean turns to face Eyes, leans his hip against the railing and supports his stomach with one hand.

“You’ll give him a fucking cause.”

Dean doesn’t think this will save his life. He’s not even aiming for that. But he wants them to be aware of what they’re doing. The grave they’re preparing to swaddle themselves in. Fucking plague of the first born. Sam’ll take them all.

Dean’s certain of that.

Eyes looks mildly disturbed, marked difference from his previous cool demeanor.

“I haven’t killed you yet, have I?” He grips Dean’s upper arm suddenly, Alpha strength, and Dean winces, but is otherwise still. Sudden movements aren’t a risk he’s ready to perpetrate on his kids just yet.

“I’m asking you again, Dean. Do you really not know why you’re here?”

Dean wrenches his arm away, safety be damned, and knocks the demon back a step, closed fist.

He’s crimson rage and mass murder, supply and demand.

His anger evaporates in a cold rush, and he can’t stop emitting dread-scent to his kids, and dread smells like illness, smells like terminal disease.

“Bait. I’m his bait. You want him here.”

Eyes doesn’t smile, but it’s a close thing. Grey-Blue, lights up like a child on Christmas, greedy for the end, benevolent God. Dean knows Sammy isn’t stupid. Most methodical, ruthless hunter, when need be. But Dean knows he doesn’t have limits when it comes to his family.

Sam’s always been that way, hand to mouth. Sam’s coming for genocide. Eyes slants a look in Dean’s direction, lets one smooth hand dangle over the railing, hovering over his counterparts, worm on a hook.

“What’s a little sin, Dean, without absolution?”

**Author's Note:**

> You guys have waited so patiently and I hope that Dean's big reveal was a little light in this corner of darkness I've created.


End file.
